Eidolon
by Staple Gunner
Summary: On the closely interwoven lives of those who investigate the supernatural. A collection of Muhyo & Roji drabbles.
1. Youth

Prompt #44: Youth

In which maturity is not governed solely by age.

* * *

"Class is over, you know."

"I know. I'm finishing my notes before I forget." Goryo doesn't look up from his notebook as he continues to jot down the rest of the lecture in as elegant a hand he can manage at the speed he's writing.

"Such a diligent student." Tomas smiles warmly and gives Goryo a gentle tap on the shoulder, motioning to a spot on the page. "Don't forget what I said there, about special provisions."

Goryo pauses. "I thought I--" His eyes widen, and he crouches low over his paper in embarrassment as he fills in the missing information.

"There, there," Tomas says, patting his student on the back. "I'm quite proud of you. I haven't had a student so diligent and talented as you in years!"

Goryo says nothing, only closes his notebook and carefully puts it in his bag. "...Thank you, professor."

"Oh no, it's my pleasure, Goryo-kun!" Tomas practically beams. "Where are you headed to now?"

Goryo slings his bag over his shoulder. "Home," he replies, keeping his back to his teacher. "I have to finish the homework you assigned." Goryo nearly jumps out of his skin at the feel of hands on his shoulders, but the familiar scent of dust and old books puts him instantly at ease.

"You work much too hard, Goryo-kun," Tomas chides. "Look out there, you see? All the other children playing, having fun. Why don't you join them?"

"There are more important things, professor," Goryo answers evenly.

Tomas gives Goryo's shoulders a gentle squeeze. "Then I'll let you out of the homework assignment for tonight. Go out and enjoy your childhood, Goryo-kun."

Goryo cranes his neck around and gives Tomas an unreadable look, shrugs off Tomas' hands, and leaves the classroom without another word.

The next day, Tomas finds the assignment completed on his desk, with "Goryo Daranimaru" written neatly on the top of the page. He'd expected as much. He turned it over absently to find a small note on the back. "Stop treating me like a little child, professor." Tomas laughs at the truth of his student's words. Goryo hasn't been a child for a long time, now. Tomas sighs, folds the paper into a neat square, and tucks it away in his pocket.

* * *

Yoichi sits at his desk, sorting through evidence from Tomas' warehouse. A last, half-finished letter from a mother to her daughter... _What a sick man, _the judge thinks in disgust. He's reached the bottom of the tin now, the rest of its contents consisting of other, equally disturbing memorabilia. Yoichi is quite ready to be done with this investigation. He unfolds the last slip of paper and squints to make out the faded text. It's written in a nearly illegible hand, an elegant, flowing script that Yoichi finds vaguely familiar. He racks his brain, _where have I seen this before? _The judge sighs in frustration, dropping the piece of paper for a moment to shuffle through the papers that covered his desk. He'd seen it recently, just before, he's sure of it.

Yoichi flips through the stack of papers in front of him. _More things from the warehouse, possible leads on Ark members, Page's poetry, those impossible to read charts on spiritual readings around the Wailing Vale from... _"Rich boy!" Yoichi cries, probably louder than necessary, but he doesn't care. He digs through the pile on his desk with new fervor, until he's found the paper again. The thin lines across the top of the paper are recognizable now, _why didn't I see it before? _On closer observation, it's not a letter, but an assignment. Yoichi reads over it for a moment, before finding an envelope and picking up a pen.

* * *

"Ah, master Goryo?" The former CEO of the disbanded Goryo Group raises his head wearily.

"What is it, Ebisu?"

"There's a letter here for you," Ebisu reports, dropping it on the executor's desk.

"Is it from the press? I asked you to handle those."

"Er, no sir," Ebisu says, turning the envelope over to display the name on the back. "It's from judge Himukai."

Goryo frowns. "Himukai?" He takes the envelope and opens it. Inside is a worn sheet of paper, folded several times into a small square, as well as a note from the judge.

"'Thought you might like to have this," Goryo reads aloud. "I found it in the warehouse.'" He hesitates for a moment, then unfolds the paper.

"Master Goryo?"

"Ahah." Goryo's mouth is twisted into a mirthless smile as he rips the paper cleanly in half.


	2. Sleep

Prompt #1: Sleep

In which Roji learns to overcome a worry.

* * *

Over time, Roji's gotten used to the fact that Muhyo sleeps a lot. A lot meaning more than the usual person. A lot meaning that the first time Muhyo slept for more than a day Roji got it into his head that the executor was in a coma, called the hospital, and was rewarded when Muhyo woke up with a good smack and a few choice insults.

Of course, he still gets worried when Muhyo sleeps more than two or three days, but his fears have never been warranted. Muhyo will without fail wake up, eat whatever Roji gives him while still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, read Jabin, and get on about his daily business by the time the sun reaches its peak. He's not a morning person, that's for sure. Sometimes Roji doubts that Muhyo's much of an _any_time person. But that's Roji's job, and he's always happy to pick up the slack, in whatever area it may be.


End file.
